I would like to welcome all you suckers

...here's some pictures and words having to do with the Sand Crab Invitational. It is so called, because riding in sand makes folks crabby.

Groups make me uncomfortable. If you saw me there (hello!), it's likely I was very quiet. I did enjoy seeing everyone's fancy bicycles. It became apparent to me very quickly that the prevailing expectations of ride length (time wise) were different from my own. I based that on observing the clothing choices. Folks at the start were racered up, not packing a lot of standing around in the moon light drinking beers type gear.

I had started my Sand Crab preparations earlier by replacing the chain ring bolts on my fixed gear bicycle. One had fallen off, so I blue loc-tited the replacements. Examined my tires, replaced the rear (sidewall cut). Packed 2 extra tubes and a patchkit with new glue. Stowed a multi-tool (with chain tool). Tucked away an extra bit of chain, master link, and a couple extra chain ring bolts. Strapped on my frame pump. I know how these things go.


There was riding through Santa Cruz to get on the beach here.


I soon found myself by myself.

I explored the varying ride offered by the varying sand. It could be wet/hardpacked and fast to dry and crumbly at either end, but there were lots of middle grounds so to speak. It was not at all apparent to look at, as to how the quality would be. You had to ride by feel. I became concerned with having untracked sand for my line. There was a lot of time riding (grinding) along with your thoughts. My pace varied as well. Between plodding and middling. The tidal zone is where it's at, but you don't want to get too wet. Or, anyway, I didn't. I wished I'd had fenders. I was thankful there was no real wind. Sometimes I'd remember to appreciate where I was.



We picked up the 2nd tier riders (and oh! how I mean that) and continued. This group was there to party, and had the gear to prove it.



Crossing a small rivulet on route to the Pajaro River. Which is basically a gnarly farm run-off canal.

I opted to remove my shoes and socks for the crossing. It's one thing to race across and get it done, and it's another to stand (and pedal) around in wet gritty shoes for several more hours.







We eventually left the beach and headed to refreshing HWY1 for the turn around at M&L Liquors in Moss Landing.

People ain't skeered to abuse they fancy bikes.
I purchased a 32oz High Life and some sunflower seeds. Sunflower seeds are my "go to" cycling snack.


B___ tried to ride back across the river, and fell in.



On the other side, people whooped it up some and watched the Full Wolf Moon put up the party light. Then they rode very fast. I found myself caught up in riding very fast for a while. Then I realized I was missing the point and stopped to wait for the other folks who wanted to stand around in the moonlight and drink beers. After all, I had packed for it.




The Sand Crab Invitational took a turn for the sordid when we warshed up at The Windjammer.





If the organizing body of the Sand Crab were seeking input, I would say it was a fine event overall (the dirty trick of riding the beach there as well as back was in character), but the focus should be more on the riding in the moonlight. I suppose I'm biased.